


Morbid's Art - JEFFREY DAHMER

by Shetani_Bonaparte



Series: MORBID'S ART [1]
Category: tcc - serial killer
Genre: Cannibalism, Serial Killer, True Crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28752354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shetani_Bonaparte/pseuds/Shetani_Bonaparte
Summary: What happens when a mere human and a sadistic Goddess meet at the infamous pub Mouth of God, have a drink together and talk about true crime?Have a seat with us and enjoy the show!-I'm here to share my darkest poems, writings and drawings based on the most cruent true crime cases. In the meantime, you'll be able to learn about the cases while me and Selene talk about them!-First part of MORBID'S ART!-I do NOT romanticize serial killers, but my oc Selene does.-Follow me for more about Selene:TUMBLR:- @morbidsart- @thehungrygod- @faithful-fated-fatalTWITTER: @MorbidIsHereTIKTOK: @morbidsarg
Series: MORBID'S ART [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107908
Kudos: 1





	1. prologue: GOD DRINKS CHEAP RED WINE

The Mouth of God is a little pub you can find nowhere and everywhere.  
It seems abandoned, its exterior walls dirty and grey. It's small, maybe too small, and inside it's awful.  
Lost Souls dance and grind against each other, their brains fogged with cheap alcohol and homemade drugs, their sexual appetite taking over their dignity.  
The Mouth of God is dirty. Its owner, the Old Stan, does his job dutifully, but whan an old man can do against God's hunger? After all, God's full of gluttony and She eats, eats, eats, She keeps chewing those poor dirty Souls, consuming them and digesting them. The Faithfuls love to say that in there, The Hungry God chews you 25 hours per day and 8 days per week.  
And here She is, talking with the Old Stan, sitting at the bar counter.  
She's _beautiful_ , Her black hair tied up in an high chignon, Her tiny feet trapped in some red high heels, Her perfect body covered by an elegant dress, as red as the long gloves covering Her six hands, and that red contrasts nicely with Her porcelain skin.  
I look at Her lips and they're stained with red too. It's a dark red, this one. Dark and liquid, it drips from Her mouth and it's _blood_. The blood of the Souls She's chewing in this pub.  
Selene looks at me with Her black eyes, smiles, opens Her six arms like a mother would do, and I walk towards Her.  
« **I'd never imagine seeing you with my eyes, Morbid!** » She says, Her voice soave and soft and full of a mix of sadness and lust. « **Look at me, Stan! I'm finally meeting my Creator!** »  
I almost want to laugh. Me? The Creator of The Hungry God?  
It's funny because it's true. She's my saddest, sweetest and most cruent creature, and She's so perfect, to me, that even I feel honoured to talk to Her.  
Absurd. Stupid.  
« **Morbid, dear, take a seat, when will you start to write in our little blog?** » She says, talking about our future Tumblr blog @morbidsart.  
I frown: «Blog? How do you know about the blo-»  
« **I'm God, dear, you should know! I know everything!** » She smiles, and sometimes I wonder if creating Her was a mistake because She seems to know too much about everything.  
«I'll start soon, Selene. I just need a while, I don't want to write something too disturbing.»  
« **Oh, bullshit** » Selene groans. « **You WANT to write some disturbing shit, you're just too scared of people's judgement and that's why you're here. You want ME to do the dirty job.** »  
I hate to admit it, but She's right. Damn.  
« **So... what about Jeffrey Dahmer?** » She asks, a glass of cheap red wine in one of Her hands.


	2. CCXIII - Patron Saint of Cannibalism

«Well... Jeffrey Dahmer is... uh, the case that introduced me to the true crime community» I mutter, unsure of what to say.  
« **And he's your favorite** » smiles Selene, a hand holding the glass of cheap red wine, one holding a cigarette and the other four on Her lap.  
«Yeah, but it's just because it's the case I know the most.»  
« **Morbid, dear, stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself.** »  
I sigh, a little scared to do so.  
I'm not the best listener. While talking, I need to keep my hands busy or I literally can't listen without losing my focus and spacing out like an idiot. People often think I don't care about what they're saying to me, but only with my hands occupied I'm truly able to concentrate on our conversation.  
I keep quiet for a moment, opening my school bag, the one I always have with me, no matter what, and I pull out some drawings tools and a little canvas.  
« **Morbid. Please, don't force me to spill the tea.** »  
«Shut up, Selene.»  
« **Jeffrey Dahmer, Patron Saint of Cannibalism** » She starts.  
«A murderer and a pedophile shouldn't be a Saint, y'know... I'm pagan, okay, but some religious people could be offended.»  
« **Oh, and do you really care? You created me, called me God, filled me with your inner monster. I'm offensive, I'm everything you truly are.** »  
«But I don't want to be like you» I almost growl, red paint on the canvas, an angry brush gripped firmly by my hand.  
« **Oh, you're not like me. I'm too confident. I actually have self-esteem** » She shrugs, drinking the wine in one gulp. The Old Stan immediately refills the glass, gaining a sweet smile by Her. « **You're more like him.** »  
«Like him... oh my gods, that's absolutely false, I'm not like Dahmer.»  
Selene laughs, clear and crystalline like a child's laughter. It amazes me how someone - or something? - dirty and cruent like Her can seems to be so pure and sweet.  
« **Oh, Morbid, you truly should stop it, you're not a good actor. Tell me the truth.** » I stop painting for a moment, letting one of Her hands to rest in my cheek, Selene acting almost like a mother. «In this place, nobody knows your real name, Morbid. You can be honest. Get it out of your chest.»  
«I... I can't. I can't admit it, I'm not ready yet.»  
Selene hums, Her thumb caressing my lips: « **What do we say now?** »  
«Please.»  
« **I'll listen to your prayers, Morbid** » She smiles. « **You always had horrible, horrible intrusive thoughts. In the last six years they became a daily thing. The worst part of your routine. You started to feel a monster because when you childhood best friend Matthew left you, after 16 years of friendship, you thought about killing him and eating his heart.** »  
«It was just- just an intrusive thought, I'd never hurt a fly, I would never-» I whimper.  
« **You thought: _If I do so, he'll live inside me, and I'll never be alone_. You had other violent thoughts. _Why don't I jump off the roof? Why don't I cut my finger off with this knife? Why don't kill my cat? Why? Why?_ And everytime you felt a monster, and whoever left you, was your meal in your fantasies.**» She leans on me, Her six arms around my body, almost comforting, almost trapping me. « **You had and have the same intrusive thoughts of Dahmer. Cannibalism lives in your brain rent free. And five years ago, when you first heard about Dahmer's case, you felt relieved. You obsessively learnt things about him until a mere month ago.** »  
«I just- I thought that learning about him would have helped me. And- and I'm not like him. I instead understood that I'm not my intrusive thoughts and that I would never act on them. I'm not like him.»  
« **Oh, you didn't end up like him just because a few people didn't abandon you. I bet whatever you want that if it wasn't for them, you'd be in jail, now.** »  
I sigh.  
I don't think She's right, I would never kill someone and I'm sure about that, but Her words are hurtful.  
I look at the canvas.  
The Patron Saint of Cannibalism stares back.

Link to my painting (see the end of the post): https://morbidsart.tumblr.com/post/637132540141092864/chapter-i-jeffrey-dahmer


	3. Little Jeffy at the Hospital

Little Jeffy was a sweet child,  
he loved every animal,  
he was always friendly, always kind.  
Everything had changed at the hospital  
where little Jeffy, even with mom, had been lonely  
and well... pretty confused.  
It hadn't mattered if the nurses had tried to be lovely,  
he had tried to ask why he was in pain, nobody had answered.  
After that, little Jeffy felt so abandoned  
and he listened to his brother  
moving in the womb, undisturbed.  
Little Jeffy felt like he didn't consider him a bother  
so "how can you do a baby, mom?" he asked.

Once again, nobody answered.


	4. The Happy Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little note: I don't mean to offend anybody, what Selene says is NOT what I think, She's just a way to call out those pathetic fangirls/fanboys/fanpeople who almost justify serial killers, blame all on the others and find them "sexy" and shit like that.

« **Why don't you start from the beginning?** » whispers Selene, waiting for me to talk about the cannibal of Milwaukee.  
«Uh... well, his parents were two completely different people» I start, clearing my throat.  
The Old Stan gives me a coffee and I thank him with a nod of my head and a little, shy smile. Selene looks at me and it's clear that She was the one ordering the warm coffee for me. It's not so impressive, to be honest, because everyone who knows me also knows about my unhealthy coffee addiction. Without complaining, I sip the beverage and I hum softly.  
«Lionell Herbert Dahmer was a very private person. Logical, rational, basically married to his work. He had a degree in Chemistry.»  
« **And Joyce hated that!** » laughs Selene. « **She was so nevrotic, so needy! A literal attention whore!** »  
«To be fair, her father neglected her because he was an alcoholic. She suffered a lot, and when she was adult she didn't want to feel neglected again. She was maybe too dramatic, about it, but yeah... it was a sad thing.»  
« **A little too dramatic? Baby, she ran away barefoot while pregnant juat because she wanted her husband to run after her in a stupid demonstration of Love.** »  
She drinks Her red wine like She was proving a point, Her chest puffed out and Her eyes full of pride.  
«Anyway... Joyce and Lionell got married on 1959-»  
« **On November 22nd 1959** » wanted to say in detail God.  
«And they immediately begun to argue and scream at each other. But... she got pregnant in few days.»  
I stay silent for a moment. I don't really like children, and I don't really understand why people should want to have one of those little screaming potatoes in their Life. I try to understand, my own parents try to warm me up at the idea, but really, it's just... a big fat nope.  
I especially don't understand why Joyce and Lionell, with all their fights and disagreements, wanted a child. I don't personally know them, but... did they really love each other? Did they think that a child would repair their mess of a marriage? Were they just in Love, and did they decide to keep going even if Love is never enough?  
It's not my place to judge, but being child free never felt so right for me. The thought of bringing a child in this world even if me and my partner don't get along well enough...  
« **Go ahead, Morbid** » Selene says, interrupting my train of thought.  
«Her pregnancy was difficult. Lot of the times Joyce was in bed with an horrendous nause, she had to be sedated because she had some very intense convunsions... and every noise made by the neighbors made her nervous. So nervous that Lionell had to buy an house in Milwaukee and they moved in there.»  
« **And she still had the nerve to be an asshole and to complain about the new neighbors!** » laughs Selene.  
«To be fair, Sel, Joyce had probably some mental health issues and also she was pregnant, stressed out and she had to share all the attentions with her child.»  
« **Or maybe she was a bitch.** »  
«We don't really know. I'm just saying what I've written down during my researches. That's all. I don't want to offend her, I don't know her personally. I can't accuse her of being an asshole like this. Please, stop.»  
« **Hm. Nope, I'm not going to stop.** »  
I groan, exasperated. I love my original characters, usually, and I love Selene, but... yeah, sometimes She makes me nervous.  
«Your sucky assumption aside...» I sigh, «they called the baby Jeffrey Lionell. Joyce adored him, but she was somehow distant. She didn't neglect him, of course not, but for example she refused to breastfeed him.»  
« **And she bound her breast.** »  
«Yup. She did that because... uh...» I take my notes about the case out, not wanting to say something wrong, «because she was nervous and she didn't like the strict breastfeeding routine.»  
« **And I, Mother God, can confirm that the poor baby felt abandoned and depressed. Jeff was just misunderstood.** »  
«Are you one of that stupid teenagers on Tumblr? Are you going to masturbate on him because you fantasize about being able to cure him with your love or some bullshit like that?»  
She laughs, smirks and one of Her hands slips between Her legs, just to make me uncomfortable: « **Maybe. Or maybe I just think about how arousing the smell and taste of blood is, how-** »  
«Enough, enough, shut up» I interrupt. Without giving Her the time to speak again, I say: «Some children, when the breastfeeding is interrupted, are able to adapt easily, comforting themselves with the bottle, but other children can feel like their mothers are refusing them. That could be Jeff's case. Joyce and Lionell argued a lot about this, and she just... ran away for a few hours.»  
« **I'm not surprised.** »  
«Shut up.»  
« **At least she kept a really cute diary or scrapbook about the baby** » beamed Selene. « **I'd like to have it.** »  
«Mood. I'd like to see it because it'd be interesting to see what she documenomething thst could help us to understand Jeff even more.» She nods. «We know his first achievements thank to that diary, and we know that he wasn't totally healthy, but still an happy child» I say, without saying the details. I don't think She'd care.  
I quicky read my notes. For the first 4 months of his Life, Jeff had to wear some correctional casts on his legs, at 6 and a half months he was able to sit without assistence, 2 months later he was able to crawl around and had the first tooth. He soon was able to walk ans run, he also started to talk really quicky, calling himself "Jeffy" and saying some basic words.  
I almost started to talk about his 4th year of Life when Selene starts to gush about how cute baby Jeff was.  
« **He wasn't even 2 when he had his first pets!** » She smiles, and She looks like a proud mother. It's cute, and sweet, but then I remembered who She is and what Dahmer did. « **He was so gentle with them, so adorable! And when he learnt to walk,Joyce had to chase him to put him to sleep. Such a little scamp!** »  
«...yeah, okay, uhm... cute, I guess. But let's move on-»  
« **Do you have any photos of Jeffy?** »  
«Hmmm nope, I don't.» Selene pouts. I start to talk again. «1963: the baby has a bad esr infection, a mild pneumonia and the principle of a double hernia. He had to be operated for that hernia on 1964.»  
« **And his parents left him all alon-** »  
«Nope. That's a common misconception and I too thought it was what happened.»  
« **Nobody really explained to Jeffy what happened and why he felt all that pain on his groin!** »  
«That's actually true, but Joyce remained by his side all the time while Lionell worked. She didn't left him alone, Selene. She maybe wasn't the best mother, but she wasn't a monster. Anyway... after that the child became more shy, he had some difficulties at socializing, even if he wasn't friendless.»  
A moment of silence lets me punder about how terrifying should be to feel all that pain without knowing why. Knowing that Jeffrey never forgot about it, I also think that it could be something really traumatizing.  
Was that what made Jeff close in himself?  
Or was his shyness caused by something deeper that that?  
Finishing my coffee, I keep thinking about it.


End file.
